A little exploration into the beginning of Zolm's association with the Persians ...
The King's brother circled idly around him. He was supposed to feel cowed, under inspection, not worthy.
But instead the young man stood still, hunched, his form and disfigured face shrouded in the thick cloak he wore around him like a second skin. Let the Lord look, he thought. He sees nothing.
"I have heard of your gifts," the Lord spoke finally, halting before him to pear beneath the good of his cloak. "Tell me more of them."
"What more is there?" the man said, his tone cold. "I have been blessed with the curse of foresight, my Lord."
"You see into the future."
"I delve," he corrected. "The Gods dictate whether or not I find anything as I search their time."
"Yes, your Gods." The Lord sneered.
Fool. Did he believe himself above the Gods?
"And yet, you fled," the Lord continued, and the young man flinched at the reminder. "You fled from your home and the home of your Gods' worship. Why?"
Because he had been blessed with the future. Blessed with visions of the Queen's newborn daughter all grown. Blessed with a consuming desire to have that which he had been sworn to protect; the baby Princess, Tamina.
"You were of the Alamutian's royal guard, were you not? Charged with protecting the late Queen, and then her fledgling?"
"Naught but a babe. Hardly a position fit for a man like me." Bile rose at uttering such a small lie, making his stomach turn and his voice grow harsh and thick with emotion. The King's stupid brother mistook this for hatred.
"A man like you." The Lord nodded sagely, a disconcerting smile crossing his features. "And what kind of man would that be?"
Finally, the young man lifted his head enough to look the Lord in the eye, and smiled. The expression contorted his scarred features, pulling the puckered skin taught and drawing attention to where the pearly, damaged skin ran beneath his uncommonly pale eyes.
A soft rustle was the only warning as an adder slithered its way up, circling his neck before ducking its scaled head into the open and tasting the air. The creature startled the Lord, who stepped back in fear.
"I have many talents," the young man said, curving a hand against the snake's roughened head as it weaved its way back within the depths of his cloak through the open sleeve. "But I excel at ending life."
The Lord swallowed visibly before drawing himself up. "Then you are what I require." He smiled cruelly. "Hassansin."